


All or Nothing

by shlynn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek is kinda rapey, Dubious Consent, Emotional Constipation, Established Relationship, Eventual Schmoop, Isaac is a puppy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oops, Pack Feels, Scenting, Sexual Frustration, derp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shlynn/pseuds/shlynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five months into a newfound relationship with a goddamn werewolf and Stiles bemoans the fact (privately, okay, to himself) that he and Derek haven't really progressed past the stage of desperate makeouts and rutting against one another through an annoyingly present layer of clothing. Stiles never says anything, though, of course - mostly because he's afraid that if he does then Derek's sexy growling will become not-sexy growling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All or Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> In my head Stiles is a lot more insecure than I feel like a lot of people write him, but please feel free to disagree. As such, the following might be a little out of character in parts, especially with the lack of Stiles actually speaking in a lot of this - I was trying to go for a less dialogue-y writing style and I'm not sure I accomplished what I set out to do, but there you have it.
> 
> Also JKSBGEJFHSDJKZFHKS Isaac is a widdle puppy bebe can I please just have him UGH.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by to read it - I hope you enjoy!

The run-down of things is this:

After years of slamming Stiles into walls and appearing unnanounced in his bedroom like a total _creep_ , Derek seemed to have managed to work through enough of his emotional constipation to make a move. "Make a move" in this case meaning "send out few enough I-will-kill-you vibes that Stiles finally works up the balls to try and kiss him". Their tongues are put to use after that - though mostly not for talking - and things progress alarmingly smoothly considering the fact that their lives are full of supernatural creatures and near-death experiences.

The pack seems to settle into the swing of things really unsettlingly quickly, in Stiles' opinion. As a matter of fact the only real bump in the road is Scott, who freaks out a little belatedly when Allison offhandedly mentions the whole "Derek and Stiles are seeing each other" scenario at lunch one day. Jackson rolls his eyes while Lydia mutters something about "obvious" under her breath and Stiles mostly just tries not to choke on his grilled cheese or die of embarrassment - especially when Scott makes Stiles swear on his life that he'll never share any of the "more personal details".

The thing is, though, beyond that, the harassment more or less stops. At first Stiles is grateful, thinking that maybe his friends are actually decent enough that they've collectively decided _not_ to try to mortify him into an early grave. However, he quickly realizes that it's more because they can _smell it on him_ that nothing between he and Derek has really progressed to that stage.

Five months into a newfound relationship with a goddamn werewolf and Stiles bemoans the fact (privately, okay, to himself) that he and Derek haven't really progressed past the stage of desperate makeouts and rutting against one another through an annoyingly _present_ layer of clothing. Stiles never says anything, though, of course - mostly because he's afraid that if he does then Derek's sexy growling will become not-sexy growling.

"You should just say something to him, already," Lydia sighs one day at lunch, and Stiles freezes mid-chew to gawk at her. He's thankful that it's just Lydia, Allison, and himself at their table so far.

"Nuh?" He manages, his mouth still full.

"Jackson keeps complaining that he can smell it on you," she says, not even looking up at him - like this isn't the most embarrassing thing Stiles has ever been told in his life, "Just tell Derek you want to jump his bones and put everyone out of their misery."

Stiles honestly has nothing to say to that, but Allison apparently does:

"Yeah, Scott's been saying something along the same lines..."

Stiles' face colours so violently he thinks he might pass out, but while Lydia continues to check out her nails like it's nothing, Allison at least has the compassion to grimace on his behalf.

He inhales the rest of his lunch and excuses himself to go sit in his Jeep and quietly wish for death before Scott and the rest of them even set their lunch trays down.

Later that night, when Derek is grinding him into the mattress - with both of them fully clothed, and come _on_ \- Stiles isn't even sure what the hell he'll say before his mouth is open and he's speaking anyway,

"Derek, please. _Please_ , can we just -"

He's not even sure that his fingers ever made contact with Derek's waistband before Derek is up and off of him. Stiles is looking up at him, a little shocked, with his pupils still blown and his legs still spread, but Derek is just standing there beside the bed looking absolutely _murderous_ and Stiles knows he's blown it even before Derek confirms it.

"No, Stiles," Derek says, with more finality than Stiles has probably ever been able to manage to convey in anything he's ever said.

And then Derek is gone.

For eight days.

The only reasn Stiles even finds out that he's back is because Isaac brings it up at lunch the next week.

"Derek's back," he breathes happily as he sits down, and everyone except Stiles seems to perk up at the news.

Stiles keeps his head pointedly down and his mouth determinedly full.

He thinks that maybe if Derek's back it means that it's just a matter of time before he shows up in Stiles' room one night, but he's wrong. Everything remains normal, like Stiles' life has nothing to do with werewolves and intense sexual frustration, which is of course the furthest thing from normal that he's experienced in a while now.

If Stiles wants to say something, he doesn't.

It's been eleven days since Stiles has even seen Derek when Lydia dutifully announces that it's "Thursday night movie night" and everyone quickly volunteers Derek's house to host the event. Erica and Isaac are discussing/debating potential titles while Boyd watches with a barely-there smirk on his face, and Scott and Allison do that gross eye-conversation thing that tells Stiles that they'll probably just be making out the whole time. Lydia looks smug that her announcement was received with enthusiasm, and Jackson snorts and makes sarcastic comments to Danny every once in a while when Isaac or Erica mention a movie that he thinks is particularly stupid.

Stiles eats his lunch and pretends to read his Chemistry textbook and taps his pen non-rhythmically against his thigh.

He doesn't go to movie night.

He's met with the brunt of an unhappy wolf pack the next day at lunch (he has somehow miraculously managed to avoid the shit out of everyone until then), when both Scott and Jackson dramatically slam their trays down on the table in front of him. Everyone else manages to slink into their seats with a little less flair, but they look just as unhappy with him.

"Why weren't you at Derek's last night, Stiles?" Scott demands, stabbing at his fries a little too viciously, "I called you like eight times and you never picked up."

"I was busy."

"With what?" Jackson scoffs, closing Stiles' textbook from under his nose. "It's not like you have anyone else to hang out with. Derek was pissed."

Stiles laughs, a little bitterly. "Was he?" he mutters.

"Stiles... Is something wrong?"

It's Allison who asks, and curse the concern in her voice because it makes Stiles look up at her and it's a mistake. They're all staring at him, various degrees of pissed-off-ness in their expressions, but stupid angelic Allison seems to have picked up on what nobody else apparently gave enough of a shit about and Stiles knows he's going to word vomit, god fucking _damn_ it.

"Derek and I broke up."

Isaac lets out a noise of distress that can only be called a whimper, and Stiles stands without grabbing his tray.

"Yeah," he agrees, and walks out.

He calls his dad from his Jeep when his hands have stopped shaking enough for him to dial and tells him that he feels sick and is going home for the day. He wonders vaguely if his voice is shaking too because his dad just sort of softly consents.

If he planned to do homework when he got home, it never happens. He flops down on the couch and only wakes up hours later when his dad sits down gently by his feet and holds out a bowl of chicken noodle soup near his face. Stiles grunts.

"Rough day?" his dad asks, and just like that Stiles knows his dad knows. He swallows and forces a nod.

His dad seems to think that's enough, then, because he waits until Stiles takes the bowl from him and then goes to sit at the kitchen table and read the paper. His dad reading the paper is usually cover for "I'm here if you want to talk, son, just let me know" and Stiles doesn't think he can really handle that in a dignified way at the moment, so he slinks upstairs with his soup and gently nudges his bedroom door closed behind him. He should probably eat, but he's not really hungry, so he sets the bowl down on his desk and sits down slowly on his bed.

He feels like shit.

Usually Stiles does his best not to mope around too much, and he likes to think that he's man enough to admit when his feelings are getting out of hand, so he shakes his head determinedly and tries to forcefully cheer himself up. Maybe he should jerk off? Never fails to boost a man's mood.

But before Stiles can even really figure out why, he's laughing at the thought. He wonders briefly if maybe he's lost his fucking mind when the laugh turns into something hysterical, and _why_ is that so funny? He lies down on his bed, still laughing, and closes his eyes to just revel in the absurdity of it when he feels something warm trail down the sides of his face and into his ears and _aw, gross_. He's still laughing but he's also crying and okay he is actually almost 100% certain that he's officially lost his fucking marbles but _who cares_.

He crawls into bed and spends most of the weekend there, his cellphone off and his laptop turned on its side so he can read Wikipedia articles without sitting up.

Monday rolls around and he wakes up feeling surprisingly okay, like maybe he just needed to mope around for like 50 hours to give his body a refresher. He doesn't even let it bother him that everyone is clearly walking on eggshells around him, especially when at lunch Isaac sits _way_ too close to him and Jackson dumps most of his curly fries onto Stiles' tray about ten minutes in. Stiles just hums and teases Scott about his mark on their latest English paper and Scott smiles uncertainly back at him and doesn't even talk back.

By the end of the day he's even received a hug from _Lydia Martin_ , okay, and he is really just going to not think about why she's hugging him because _fuck that noise_.

He's actually feeling pretty decent, all things considered, which is of course why Derek Hale is standing in his room when he gets home.

Stiles doesn't jump, for once, but his heartbeat picks up at a frankly ridiculous rate and he can feel the heavy press of dread burning low in his stomach. Dropping his book bag by his desk, he lets out a slow breath and lowers himself down onto his bed. He tells himself to just not say anything, to just let Derek stew in this bullshit for a while, but of course he never listens to anyone, let alone himself.

"What?" he says flatly, looking at Derek's shoes. He can't pull his gaze upwards.

Derek breathes audibly, deep and slow like he's reeling in his anger and when Stiles looks down at his hands, clutching his bedsheets like they've offended him, he thinks he understands the feeling.

"You told the pack we..." Derek starts and doesn't finish. Stiles forces a shrug.

"So?"

Derek snarls in response and Stiles wishes he had taken the god damn bite from Peter when he'd offered if it would mean he could snarl back. His gaze whips up to meet Derek's and he doesn't give a shit that Derek's eyes are flashing because _fuck you Derek fuck you Derek fuck you Derek_ -

"Fuck you, Derek," Stiles spits, standing when Derek's fists clench, "No, fuck you. You don't get to come here all wolfed out and pissed off because I told everyone the _truth_. I haven't seen you in two weeks, Derek. Two fucking weeks. Since I tried to tell you that I wanted more and you made it pretty damn clear that you wanted _less_ , okay. Fine. I get it. Sorry I'm the one who had to put it in words, since you're too fucking emotionally constipated to ever put _anything_ in words, but there you fucking have it. Fuck you, Derek. We broke up, didn't we? So that's it."

"No," Derek growls out, and Stiles doesn't care if he looks like an idiot when he grabs a pencil off his desk and whips it at Derek, missing completely.

" _Yes_ ," Stiles hisses, his breath coming out hot and his face on fucking fire with anger. "I'm done. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't even fucking want me, okay, so fuck. You. Derek."

Derek launches himself at Stiles and they land on the bed with a thunk and Stiles hears his alarm clock tumble off his bedside table and he doesn't even care because it's the last of his worries if Derek decides to fucking claw him to death right there and _who even gives a fuck if he does_ so long as Stiles gets in a few good blows before he's missing his throat. Stiles' elbow connects with Derek's jaw before Derek manages to wrangle both Stiles' wrists into his hold, pinning them beside Stiles' head against the bed and shredding the sheets beneath his claws. He's sitting on Stiles' thighs as Stiles writhes underneath him, grunting his frustration and genuinely not caring that his fight is useless.

"Get _off_ ," Stiles cries in frustration, snapping his mouth shut when he hears his voice crack.

Ignoring him, Derek of course does the opposite of what he says and leans in over Stiles, who crunches his eyes shut and turns his head away. Except that this only gives Derek free reign to rub his nose up and down the side of Stiles' neck, making him shake with angerhurtfrustrationwantwantwant -

"I want you," Derek murmurs, "So bad. How could you think that I don't? So bad, Stiles."

Stiles chokes.

"I want you so badly it scares me," Derek swallows, breathing deep under Stiles' ear, "I can't - How could you think I don't want you?"

"You made it pretty fucking obvious!" Stiles hisses, trying to shrug Derek out of his space. "Two weeks, Derek."

"I'm sorry."

"You can't just - Derek, _get off_ ," Stiles tries to push up again but Derek doesn't budge. "It's not fair."

"I'm sorry." Derek is nosing at Stiles' neck again and Stiles _whines_ , god damn it.

"Derek."

"You're so young," Derek whispers, his voice sounding pained. "Stiles. You're so young."

"So?" Stiles' voice is borderline shrill and he feels like just _roaring_ , he's so angry, "So there's a line that comes with how old I am and we just don't cross it? We get everything up to a certain point and that's it? Because fuck that, Derek, I don't want that. I don't want only part of this, I don't want only pieces. I want the whole thing. It's not fair."

" _Stiles_."

"No, Derek, listen. If that's the case I am seriously done. I can't, okay? And it's not even - it's not even sex, okay, it's not even just that, it's - you can't shut down and run off any time _you_ decide it's too much. It's not fair. It's not your decision - not just yours. I want - Derek, you have to let me. Let me in. I want all of it or I want none of it because I can't do this in halves. I can't."

There's just breathing now, filling the room as Stiles wheezes to get his breath back after his rant and Derek just looks down at him, assessing, his chest rising and falling slowly like he's in the middle of some sort of weird sitting-on-somene-else's-legs meditation yoga, and then he just scoffs, looking at Stiles' lips as his brows furrow and he says,

"Your dad is gonna arrest me."

And then he leans in and kisses Stiles on the lips, gently and thoroughly, though he never makes a move to deepen it. Stiles whines in frustration when Derek pulls away to press similar kisses to his throat, pausing over his pulse point.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against Stiles' skin and Stiles shivers and grunts indignantly and Derek laughs. In spite of himself, Stiles feels his lips breaking into a grin as well.

"I can probably forgive you. At some point. Possibly."

Derek grunts.

"Good, because I don't know if the rest of the pack will."

Stiles laughs at that, at the visual he gets and at Derek's look of actual dread, and Derek bites back a grin and tells him to shut up and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

They don't do anything that night, but Stiles is actually so okay with that because Derek is plastered to his side, humming in his sleep and rubbing his mouth along Stiles' shoulder and Stiles realizes that this whole thing really, really wasn't about sex at all.

Things are okay.

Although it helps that in the morning Derek gives him his first blowjob and it basically ruins him for life.

If he has a little bit more spring in his step at school that day, well, who can blame him. Scott takes one look at him - or one sniff, rather - and scrunches his face up so comically that Stiles laughs himself to tears and Isaac plows into him with the best congratulations-on-the-sex hug in the history of anything ever. Jackson breathes out a "Jesus, finally" in Math that would have Stiles scowling if Derek hadn't told him about the shit-fit Jackson pitched on Derek on Friday night. Allison is doing her best angel impression as she smiles at him all day and Lydia gives him _another_ hug because what the hell. Even Boyd pats him on the back during third period.

"Mom and Dad are back together, huh," Erica smirks into her salad at lunch and Isaac _beams_ , which is just absurd.

The run-down of things is this:

Things are okay.

**Author's Note:**

> FUCKIN' ST00PID ENDING BUT I HAVE SO GO TO CLASS, SO.
> 
> This was originally supposed to include porn. My bad.


End file.
